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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955214">would you be my little quarantine (or is this the way it ends)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/medumyce/pseuds/medumyce'>medumyce</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale is a dumb bitch, First Kiss, Good Omens Lockdown, M/M, That should be a tag already, aziraphale talked about making sourdough in the short; he's one of us, quarantine fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:09:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/medumyce/pseuds/medumyce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale's been a coward, but Crowley finally gets what he wants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>would you be my little quarantine (or is this the way it ends)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from "level of concern" by twenty one pilots. so this is what i've devolved to</p>
<p>edit: fuck shit i didn't even think about it but happy gomensiversary everybody</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>July.</p>
<p>Well, that was fucking ridiculous.</p>
<p>Aziraphale looked despondently at the single cupcake that was left on his desk, as if it could possibly give him answers. No, not answers: he <i>knew</i> what he had to do. What he wanted from the fudge cupcake with cream cheese icing was the strength to do it. </p>
<p>He sighed at it, picked it up, and took a bite. Then he picked up the phone again. The Bakelite knew better than to wonder who Aziraphale needed, and dialed Crowley’s number on its own.</p>
<p>“What is it now, angel?”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s just that I know how much you loved that cheesecake from the time we went to that place in 1985—”</p>
<p>“Define ‘that place in 1985.’”</p>
<p>“Quit being obtuse. You still wouldn’t shut up about their cheesecake forty years later.”</p>
<p>He heard Crowley sigh over the line and say, “Yeah, I know.”</p>
<p>“<i>Anyway,</i> I figured that I might as well track down the recipe, since, oh... you liked it so much, and I have so much free time, after all...”</p>
<p>“So you decided you’d make some and eat it for me, ‘s that it? Any reason you had to call and let me know?”</p>
<p>“What?” Aziraphale said, caught completely off guard. “No, that’s... that’s ridiculous. I was just...”</p>
<p>Crowley let out a huff of breath, and Aziraphale was dismayed to find that he sounded annoyed. “Just what?”</p>
<p>“Just... oh,” Aziraphale muttered. “Crowley, you must know—this is difficult for me to—but you must know.”</p>
<p>The phone was silent for a long time, and despite how stupid the notion was, Aziraphale was afraid he’d hung up.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know,” said Crowley. “I know you want me to come over, angel, I knew it the first time you called. ‘S just. It’s been almost a year, you know? We don’t have to worry about anyone coming after us anymore. And you still just won’t... say it. I mean, anything, you—you still won’t tell me what you want.”</p>
<p>“Crowley,” said Aziraphale, shattered.</p>
<p>“I’ll come over, angel. I’ll bring wine, and you can make cheesecake for me and we can eat it together, but only if you ask me. No dodging, no hiding behind technicalities and plausible deniability. I’m gonna say yes to whatever it is you want, you just—.” He cut himself off, beginning to sound desperate. “You just have to be the one to ask this time, okay?”</p>
<p>“Crowley, please.”</p>
<p>“Aziraphale.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale knew. It had always been Crowley giving, and he’d done nothing but take. And the kind of thing he wanted from Crowley... that wasn’t fair. “Alright,” he said. “Here I am. Crowley, please do come over, I want to see you. And give you cheesecake. I would love it if you brought wine. And then... perhaps...”</p>
<p>“Mmhm?” Crowley said.</p>
<p>“Perhaps you could stay,” Aziraphale finished.</p>
<p>“Stay?”</p>
<p>“The night. Or, hell, the rest of quarantine, I’d... I’d rather like that.” Aziraphale flushed. “Oh, dear. That’s the last of my bravery. Please come over before I have the chance to start self-flagellating.”</p>
<p>“Angel,” Crowley said wetly. “Right. Put the phone down and stand back.”</p>
<p>“What are you—”</p>
<p>“Put the phone down, or you’ll wind up with a nasty bruise.”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale said. He set the receiver down gently on the desk, and a moment later, Crowley was materializing out of it, holding a bottle of wine and—</p>
<p>“Are those flowers?” </p>
<p>Crowley was rolling his eyes; he just knew it. “What do they look like?”</p>
<p>“You <i>came.</i> And you brought flowers.”</p>
<p>“Forget about these.” Crowley tossed the bouquet onto the desk, where its flowers would become slightly smudged with cream cheese icing, and set the bottle down more gently. “And forget about the cheesecake. I want you more.”</p>
<p>“Oh, my dear boy. I’ve been very stupid—come here.”</p>
<p>In another burst of bravery that would surprise them both, Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s lapels and finally, <i>finally</i> pulled him in. No subterfuge necessary. Somehow, it was fitting.</p>
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